


Disclosure

by Trobadora



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Episode: s04e12 Maréchaussée, Gen, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:52:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5654818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trobadora/pseuds/Trobadora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A missing scene from <i>Maréchaussée</i>: Nick tells Renard about his mother's email.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disclosure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ilien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilien/gifts).



Nick pushed away his keyboard and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at the back of his head. He wanted this bounty hunter out of commission before he killed again. The sooner they could find him and lock him away, the better. With any luck the manticore was still in Portland and not on his way back to Texas - a Grimm would have a much easier time dealing with him. Nick almost hoped he'd put up a fight. Something to take Nick's mind off everything else.

 _Too many problems._ Adalind was in town, with the Royals, trying to track down Diana. The Wesen Council was ordering hits, and Nick wasn't sure what was more uncomfortable - what passed for justice in the Wesen world, or the fact that no matter what he did here and now, he couldn't stop the practice. And Juliette ...

Juliette was taking the news about Adalind badly; no surprise there. But she was so angry, and Nick worried she'd do something rash, putting herself in harm's way. And she was human, no match for a Hexenbiest. _Please, no._

He didn't know what was going through Juliette's mind. She was slipping through his hands, growing more distant by the day, and Nick had no idea why. That had been before the news about Adalind. She talked to him less and less, hardly touched him at all, even leaned away from him, and he ... 

He'd only meant to give her space. But now he found himself avoiding her too, no longer wrapping an arm around her when she was close, no longer kissing her good-bye when he went out. 

Nick stood up abruptly. "Gotta talk to the captain," he told Hank, and turned away before Hank could say anything in return. He needed a distraction, and this would do.

The thought had been lingering at the back of his mind since he'd seen his mother's email - Renard would want to know. Maybe he even had a right to.

Nick was already knocking on Renard's office door when the doubts hit. He never quite knew where he stood with Renard, much less how much to tell him, or how much of what he was up to Renard told him in turn. They were allies, and Nick trusted the captain, but ...

There was always a _but_.

The captain's curt "Come in" cut through his thoughts, and Nick went, glad for the interruption.

Renard didn't look up from his desk when Nick shut the door, making notes on a sheet of paper. He capped his pen, placed the paper in a folder and closed it, and only then lifted his head. "Something new?" 

Nick almost changed his mind then, but shook his head. "Not about the case." He didn't let himself hesitate, plunged right in. "I emailed my mother about Viktor and Adalind."

Renard nodded, already turning away again, eyes on the folder on his desk. "That's probably a good idea," he said, sounding distracted. Nick wondered if he was as busy as he looked, or if he simply preferred to avoid the subject of Nick's mother.

"And I actually heard back from her," Nick added.

Renard's eyes snapped to his. After a moment he rose from his chair and came out from behind his desk, standing next to Nick. The folder had clearly been put out of his mind. "You did?"

Nick nodded. How much to say? "I emailed her before, about your mother looking for Diana, but she didn't reply at the time, and she didn't mention it now either." She must have received his mails, though. Nick didn't know what she was thinking. He didn't know her well enough. Not a pleasant thought.

Renard smiled, thin and humorless. "She may not have wanted to acknowledge it." He shook his head tiredly. "Was there anything else?"

"Yes." Nick hesitated, then took a step closer. "The email deleted itself, but there was an attachment - a picture of Diana."

Renard blinked; then his entire body froze. "What did she look like?" he asked, seemingly on autopilot, continuing the conversation in the obvious direction by sheer force of habit.

"Happy," Nick said quietly. "She looked happy, playing and laughing. She's doing well. I thought you'd want to know."

Renard looked at him for a long moment, almost unseeing. Then he turned away, eyes distant and unfocused, and Nick didn't have to wonder what he was seeing in front of his mind's eye - his entire expression melted, suddenly radiating a warmth Nick had never quite seen on the captain's face before.

 _I want to see that again,_ he thought, absurdly, irrelevantly. Renard's eyes were fixed on the invisible image of the child he'd lost, drinking in a vision painted by Nick's words and his own longing, and Nick's eyes were fixed on Renard's face, unable to turn away. He should have felt guilty for staring, for intruding on such a private moment, but he didn't. He couldn't.

That feeling on Renard's face, that part of him - _Yes,_ Nick thought, _this._ And he'd made it happen. Nick's mouth was suddenly dry.

Then, abruptly, Renard turned on his heel and went back behind his desk, looking down at its surface and shaking his head as if to clear it. He sat down. Only then did he meet Nick's eyes again.

"Thank you," Renard said, obviously heartfelt. "I appreciate you telling me. I wish ..." And his eyes were far away again.

"I could see if we can restore the picture on my computer," Nick offered, wanting to give _something_.

Renard shook his head, and suddenly he was sharp and alert again. "I couldn't risk keeping it, but ..." He shrugged. "I hope your mother will hold on to the pictures."

His feelings were plain on his face, far from his usual inscrutable expression. One day, Renard hoped - one day he'd be able to risk it. One day, he'd have his daughter back. 

Nick's chest felt tight, and he half wanted to excuse himself, quick as he could, to stop intruding on something private.

Instead, he stepped around Renard's desk.

Renard's eyebrows went up as Nick came closer, lifted a hand and, greatly daring, carefully settled it on Renard's shoulder. His eyes flickered between Nick's face and his hand, but just as Nick decided to snatch his hand away and apologize, Renard's own large hand closed over his. "Thank you," he breathed. "I mean that, Nick."

Their eyes met, and Nick felt arrested, something indefinable shivering through him.

Then Renard let go of his hand and gave him a brisk nod. Nick pulled away in turn, returned the nod and went to the door.

"Nick." Renard's voice stopped him before his hand had reached the door knob.

Had he mistaken his cue? Nick turned back, tilted his head to the side in question.

Renard's lips pressed together into a thin line, and he suddenly looked conflicted. "You should know ..." His lips twitched for a moment as if he were tasting something unpleasant. "I've sent someone to look for your mother."

It was like suddenly being drenched in ice water. " _What?_ " 

Nick's entire body tensed like a bow-string. A moment ago, he'd thought they understood each other. A moment ago, something had passed between them that had seemed real and heart-felt. Now, Renard seemed a stranger. One who was putting _Nick's mother_ in danger. 

"Why?" Nick snarled. 

Renard met his furious glare calmly. "I don't want someone else to find her first," he said, sounding entirely too reasonable. 

"So you'll just lead someone to her?" 

"No." Renard's eyes narrowed; then he shook his head. "Warn her," he said. "I have no objection. I _want_ her to be as careful as it's possible to be. But I've let this go for this long, and it's _my daughter_ in danger even more than your mother - Diana is just a baby." His expression softened for the blink of an eye; then he continued. "I should have sent someone after her much earlier, actually. If only to see how traceable she is."

Nick took a threatening step forward, hands closing into fists. "That's not good enough."

"Don't be stupid." Renard was losing his patience as well now. "Viktor's looking to me as a road to Diana. If I give him nothing, he'll find someone else, and we won't even know what he knows. Or thinks he knows."

Nick forced himself to unclench his fists. "You want to feed them info." That actually made some sense. But that made it no more palatable, not one bit.

"I _want_ them to leave Diana the hell alone. But that's not going to happen, so yes. I don't have much choice." An indecipherable look. "Viktor's under a lot of pressure. If he gets desperate, there's no telling what he'll do."

Nick considered. If nothing else, Renard knew the Royals, had spent his entire life staying alive despite their machinations. And he wanted his daughter safe. 

Fine. Nick didn't like it, but Renard had a point. "You'll tell me," Nick demanded. "When you hear back."

Renard's answering glare didn't give an inch. "And you'll tell me when you hear from your mother."

Nick bared his teeth. "I did." _And I'm regretting it right now,_ he didn't say, but he was sure Renard heard it loud and clear. Why was it always like this with Renard? Why couldn't the man ever think in a straight line?

 _Because he'd be dead if he did,_ Nick's subconscious whispered, traitorously.

"You did," Renard agreed, and a small, cool smile formed on his lips. "And so did I."

Nick hid his racing thoughts under another glare. If he hadn't gone to Renard first, would Renard have told him anything? Unlikely. But he had, and Renard had.

Maybe someone had to make the first step, and given the man's family, Nick could hardly be surprised it wasn't going to be Renard. Maybe that was the point: that trust bred trust, and if he wasn't prepared to give it he shouldn't expect to receive it. 

Nick took a slow breath, trying to breathe out his useless anger and frustration, and gave a minuscule nod. "I'm glad Diana is okay," he offered.

Renard's eyes remained hard for another long moment; then he returned the nod. "As am I," he said. "Thank you again, Nick."

And that was as far as they'd get here, today, Nick thought as he closed the door behind him. So much for a distraction from his problems; this had only left him more confused and more frustrated than before. 

One day - _one day_ \- he and Renard would have to have it all out. One day, they'd have to find out where they stood when the chips were down, what kind of agreement they could forge. How well they understood each other, underneath it all. But until then, baby steps. It had worked for them so far, after all.


End file.
